Tuesday 8 June 2010

Open letter to my hero

Dear Tom,

We both know that's not your name, but I don't want to get sued, so let's call you Tom, in memory of my last doomed love affair. Although, since you're American, let's pronounce it Tahm.

I am not asking you to marry me. I think the M word probably sends shivers up your spine these days. So let's start with a coffee, take it from there.

Because, here's the thing. I think you might find me valuable.

The more I read about you, the more I think it unfair, tragically unfortunate even, that you were born 20 years before me into a nation separated from mine by hundreds of miles, an ocean, and a common language, and into a destiny that will no doubt keep us apart.

You are passionate, articulate, intelligent, talented, generous. You love words. You make time for people.

You understand the importance of coffee.

You are a devoted father. I'm guessing the last thing you want is more kids, and that's fine. The whole pregnancy and birth thing freaks me out anyway. Let your children be the recipients of the reserves of love that I long to give.

You read a book a week. You write a thousand words a day.

Imagine the Scrabble games we could have.

I am not, or no longer, the kind of woman who needs constant entertainment, and so imagine rainy Sunday afternoons curled up together with our novels, interrupted only by coffee, fresh juice and perhaps some physical exercise. Imagine, too, the conversations: inspiring and energising as they so often are between bookworms.

We could take turns reading out our writing and help each other to find synonyms and new ways to convey old truths. We could work on a screenplay together, cast all our best friends in the movie, give Josh Malina the role of a lifetime. You could make me laugh with your witty one-liners and I could correct your spelling mistakes. Except that I have the feeling that you don't make any, apart from the usual American ones.

And when we're not doing any of that and you're not working - and I love your work, you know that - maybe we could run a political consultancy. Or campaign together to get Obama re-elected. You could teach me all there is to know about American politics. I think you would secretly quite enjoy that.

Can you honestly tell me that does not sound like fun?

Buy me that coffee and convince me.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Well! That was thinly veiled!! It was very eye opening....since you now must be accepting of his ADVANCING age(Lol!) Most times age differences are not a problem...Hubby is 10 yrs older than me and I am 9 yrs and 7 days older than our hero! RAS

Claire said...

Well, I want him to be able to recognise himself, otherwise, well, it could be tragic, couldn't it? Imagine if he thought, wow, she sounds amazing, if only if were me she was talking about...

I don't think the age difference is unsurmountable either! :)

Anonymous said...

Hahah. Excellent timing!